


Everything Counts

by flowersforgraves



Series: BTHB [34]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, Gen, Medical Procedures, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 12:09:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19887514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves/pseuds/flowersforgraves
Summary: She might be bleeding, but like hell that's going to stop her from doing her job.





	Everything Counts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [handschuhmaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/handschuhmaus/gifts).



> Prompt from handschuhmaus: bleeding through the bandages + M*A*S*H.
> 
> Card: [here on Imgur](https://imgur.com/VtOGzNh) // List of claimed prompts: [here on Tumblr](https://flowersforgraves.tumblr.com/post/184817489731/)
> 
> Prompt me via Dreamwidth or Tumblr!

Margaret doesn’t have time to stitch up her cut finger -- they’ve just finished with the wounded that came in a few hours ago, and they’re expecting more any time now. She has time to get something to eat, and she has time to sit down and rest for a moment, but she doesn’t have time to properly care for her own injury. So instead, she wraps it in a clean cloth and puts pressure on it while she crams as much bread (“bread”) in her mouth as possible. 

Radar warns them just in time to prep the OR again, and then everything is a blur. All she can see is her job, and her job is to make sure these soldiers survive. Her finger, cut last session with a scalpel, fades to a dull ache in the back of her mind.

Both nurses and doctors go through endless amounts of disposable gloves, so she’s not paying attention to the blood on her hands -- she’s assisting Hawkeye with a rather difficult case -- until she takes them off for the next patient. Her hand comes out of the glove with some effort, sticking from sweat, she assumes, until she pulls her hand all the way out and sees the blood drying on her skin.

Her first thought is that she had somehow torn open the glove without noticing during the operation. It wasn’t unheard-of, even if it was unlikely. So she heaves a sigh and moves past it. She washes her hands, and puts a new pair of gloves on, because the war stops for nothing.

Of course, the second pair of gloves that come off bloody is a surprise. She’s not awake enough to register that it’s the same hand, but Margaret is a damn good nurse, and she’s not going to let her carelessness endanger any patients. She splashes water on her face before heading back into the OR with a fresh pair of gloves and a steely set to her jaw.

She gets it, the third time. She swears under her breath, too tired to put venom in her voice, and checks how many more wounded they’ve got. One look at triage has her swearing again, and so she slaps gauze and medical tape on her hand before putting two gloves on her left hand just in case. It’s going to be a long session, and using a second set of gloves is going to save time, and maybe lives too.

When it’s over, and the blood and heat and precision work have faded in and out and in and out more times than Margaret bothers to count, she finally peels the second glove off. Her hand hurts, but the air on her skin feels good and she breathes a sigh of relief. Gentle as she is, it still stings when she pulls the gauze off -- it’s soaked through with the blood still sluggishly leaking from her finger. A couple stitches should take care of it, she thinks. And then a nap. 


End file.
